The Ballad of Mona Lisa
by Sandylee007
Summary: Emily Prentiss is slipping away. Is Spencer Reid enough to stop her? Two nights lead to the final decision.                 ReidxPrentiss                     My version of Prentiss' departure.         ONESHOT


A/N: Heh, this plot bunny jumped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. (groans)

Season six hasn't been aired around where I live (we're still waiting for season five – imagine that!). But I've been keeping an eye on what's going on, and I must confess I'm worried. So Prentiss is leaving? That's seriously not good. (pouts) Inspired by the latest events in the series, I decided to write this as my version of her departure.

WARNINGS: **SPOILER ALERT** to season six, romance (no SLASH, though), language, general weirdness… (blinks and glances around) Anyone out there…? I don't own the song – 'Ballad of Mona Lisa' by Panic at the Disco – either; I just love it very much. (And I think it sort of fits Prentiss.)

DISCLAIMER: If I'd own ANYTHING of 'CM'… 1) Reid's secret would've been revealed long since, 2) Prentiss would NOT be leaving.

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) Let's get to business, no? I REALLY hope you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

**_The Ballad of Mona Lisa_**

**_

* * *

_**

/ _She paints her fingers with a close precision  
He starts to notice empty bottles of gin  
And takes a moment to assess the sin  
She's paid for_ /

* * *

It was one of those quiet, hopelessly long rainy days Spencer Reid first began to truly notice. That day he met the real Emily Prentiss for the first time.

True enough, the case had been hard on them all – it couldn't be anything less than that when the victims were four Russian children who'd been brought to the U.S. illegally. After what felt like forever they found out that their UnSub was a man called Igor Stalinski. Spencer and Emily were the ones who found the man from his mansion. That was when things got ugly.

Before Spencer could do anything Emily shot Igor twice, effectively taking him down, then attacked the man before he realized properly what was happening. Her hammering punches broke Igor's jaw, nose and most likely his skull. Igor was dead by the time Aaron Hotchner and Derek Morgan ripped Emily off of him.

Aaron had no other choice. If he hadn't suspended Emily, for the time being as the unit chief firmly reminded, Erin Strauss would've done something much worse. It was no surprise that Emily didn't take the news lightly.

It was a surprise, though, that when she apparently fell to the very bottom at two thirty in the morning Spencer was the one to get the call. From his surreal conversation with a bar's bouncer Spencer learned that Emily had ended up into a bar-fight with two men who got a little bit too touchy-feely. She hadn't been hurt, which was Spencer's first question. But the men had almost ended up into a hospital, and she'd been barely sober enough to give his number. The bouncer told Spencer to pick Emily up as soon as possible. She was lucky for not having been arrested.

Standing outside the filthy, stinking bar that located in one of the city's worst parts Spencer took in a deep breath and looked towards the sky, getting his eyes full of rain. This was one of the many occasions when he had absolutely no idea what to do. And he hated it.

Emily's sudden, slurring voice startled him. "Thanks for coming to get me."

Spencer frowned when looking towards her and taking in her appearance. She had far too much makeup, and the all too revealing clothes she'd chosen didn't seem right on her. And her eyes were like those of a wild animal that had been chased into a corner. "Are you okay?" was the first coherent thing that came to his mind. It wasn't the question he would've wanted to ask, but it was the first one that came to his mind.

Emily nodded although her condition made it appear far from convincing. "I'm fine. Those assholes didn't get the chance to touch me." Just then she stumbled, alcohold beginning to get the best of her. Spencer hurried to support her. He discovered that she smelled like gin, flowers and sweat. And despite the situation Spencer shivered.

Neither of them spoke as they made their way to his car, Spencer half-carrying his drunken colleague.

When Emily slumped to the passanger's seat of his car and began to shake uncontrollably with one hand brought to her lips Spencer first thought she was going to throw up. It wasn't until he saw the moisture on her cheeks he realized what was really happening.

And there, as Spencer watched with wide eyes how the tears that'd been restrained far too long painfully searched their exit, he realized that he was finally seeing the real Emily.

* * *

/ _A lonely speaker in a conversation  
Her words are spinning through his ears again  
There's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you've paid for_ /

* * *

Spencer had been driving for about three minutes when Emily passed out. It wasn't until then he realized he didn't even know her address.

He stopped his car to a red light, wheels turning in his head with such speed that even his skull seemed to be throbbing. He cast a sideways glance towards Emily's firmly passed out form, then made his decision.

Spencer was no super hero, but his body was stronger than most gave him credit for. Even so dragging a practically unconscious woman into his third-floor apartment was no easy feat. When he finally reached his door he faced a new challenge when he had to attempt opening the door and support Emily's body at the same time. Hearing the noise he made his next door neighbor – a old woman called Mrs. Millon – peered into the hallway, most likely wondering if the morning's newspaper had arrived. She gave him and the woman in his hold a long look, pursed her lips and retreated back into her apartment. Suddenly Spencer felt like a sick pervert.

Shaking away that thought he finally pushed the door open and maneuvered the two of them in. Spencer tried to be as gentle as possible as he lay her to his bed, but nonetheless she emitted a quiet, drunken mew of discomfort and confusion. In secrecy he considered the sound endearing. It wasn't until Spencer put a blanket to cover her shivering form he noticed something unexpected.

There were tears running down Emily's pale cheeks again.

He thought about waking her up but came to a conclusion that he would've most likely had no success. Instead he tucked her in better, left her two painkillers for the morning and lay his surprisingly tensed up body to the couch.

It was almost five in the morning before he fell asleep. It was sheer luck he had a day off that day – there was no way he would've been able to work.

About three hours later Spencer was momentarily startled upon waking up to find Emily rummaging through her handbag. He blinked twice, slowly pushing himself to a sitting position. "What… are you doing?"

Emily shuddered a little with startle, then looked slowly towards him. She swallowed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

Spencer frowned. He didn't have to be a profiler to realize that she was far from alright. "Emily… What's wrong?"

For a moment Emily looked at him with those eyes he'd never seen before, her lips parting slightly while her body tensed up with the need to speak out. And then, in one blink, it was gone. Emily's eyes changed, returned to those she'd managed to gain with years of suppressing what really lay inside her. "I should go. " Her hand twitched towards his shoulder but in the end didn't touch. "Thanks, for letting me stay – I really appreciate it. But I should go home now."

Spencer frowned. "Emily…"

The look Emily sent his way was enough to push him into silence. "I'm tired and I've got a headache, alright? All this… Just forget about it. I'm fine, honestly. I just need to be alone right now." With that she took her handbag and headed out, closing the door firmly behind her. She was clearly turning her back on the entire matter.

That was a mistake from her part.

Spencer Reid _never_ forgets anything.

* * *

/ _Say what you mean  
Tell me I'm right  
And let the sun rain down on me  
Give me a sign  
I want to believe  
Woah, Mona Lisa,  
You're guaranteed to run this town  
Woah, Mona Lisa,  
I'd pay to see you frown_ /

* * *

Spencer didn't meet Emily in almost a month after that, until she was allowed back on duty. She was visibly unhappy about the fact that she was assigned on desk duty, but accepted it as better than nothing. With her around everything was deviously close to normal.

Hours stretched on with the team preparing themselves for a new case. Three young women had been tortured and murdered brutally in Vermont. There were clear signs that the killer was escalating and the local police needed their help desperately. They'd take off the following morning.

Preparing for a new case was always hectic, but nonetheless Spencer wondered if he was the only one who noticed that there was something wrong with Emily; if he was the only one who saw the evidence of sleepless nights, the amount of tension, the visible fear. Something was wrong, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she wasn't accepted on field yet.

In the end Spencer and Emily were the last members of the team left when even Aaron took off after getting a call that Jack had started throwing up. When Emily headed towards break room to get some coffee Spencer decided that his chance had arrived.

He arched an eyebrow at her huge mug. "Are you trying to beat my record?"

Emily stiffened but relaxed immediately when seeing him and even tried to smile. "Do you have any idea how boring desk duty is?"

Spencer grit his teeth, deciding that it was time to bite the bullet. "Look, Emily…" He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't used to situations like this. What was he supposed to say, to avoid making things worse? "I… I know something's wrong with you – has been for a while, actually. Are you in some sort of a trouble?"

Emily's eyes flashed like those of a threatened wild animal's. That's why he knew to expect the attack long before it came. She took two steps closer to him, her eyes narrowing. "Whatever is going on with me is none of your business! Stay away from my life, do you hear me? The best you can do is to stay away."

Spencer felt a sharp twinge of hurt but didn't even flinch. "I'm trying to help you, Emily. Whatever is going on with you… I want to help. I want to be there for you."

Emily stared at him for the longest moment with wide, almost wild eyes he couldn't read even with the best of wills. And then she did something he would've never, ever known to expect.

She leaned forward and crushed her lips against his, with such force that he almost fell down, and sealed him into a kiss that took his breath away. One of her arms wrapped around him while her other hand sneaked into his hair, making him shiver with pleasure. While the kiss deepened she held on to him as though she'd been afraid he might disappear if she'd let go.

Spencer had absolutely no idea of what he was doing, but it appeared his body did. Faster than he caught anything happening he was responding to the kiss with such eagerness he would've never known to expect.

All reason vanished.

* * *

/ _He senses something, call it desperation  
Another dollar, another day  
And if she had the proper words to say,  
She would tell him  
But she'd have nothing left to sell him _/

_

* * *

_

Spencer wasn't entirely sure what happened, how in the world they made it to his apartment. One moment Emily was kissing him, the next her hands were all over his naked form.

Spencer found himself blushing when Emily kissed his neck, feeling immediate need to cover himself. He swallowed thickly, only then realizing that he was shivering. "Em…"

She immediately interrupted him with a look that said everything necessary. "Do you want this?" she asked in a husky tone he'd never heard before.

"Yes", he murmured back immediately. Because right then, feeling her warm, soft body against his… He didn't think he'd ever wanted anything so badly. The need made every part of him throb.

Emily nodded, and he recognized relief in her eyes. At that moment, in the covers of the room's darkness, he finally saw her completely unshielded and vulnerable. "Then stop fighting it", she commanded.

She reached first her hand, then her lips, lower, lower and lower, brushing his most private areas. And he let her, without a hint of hesitation.

Spencer knew he was taking a dangerous risk when letting her that close to him, when letting her touch such areas of his body and soul no one had ever reached before. But it took only one look into her atypically dark eyes to discover that it was a risk he was willing to take.

The night's long, thick shadows were their only cover as they got lost into each other, touched every single piece of one another with feral, desperate need.

* * *

/ _Mona Lisa, wear me out  
Pleased to please Ya__  
Mona Lisa, wear me out_ /

* * *

The following morning Emily sat on Spencer's bedside, watching as he slept with a light frown on his face. She was barely strong enough to resist the temptation to stroke back the lock of brown hair that'd strayed to rest right next to his eye.

Emily wondered if he'd ever understand. She'd never, ever wanted to become another one of those people who abandoned him. And although she knew it wasn't her place she all but prayed that in some miraculous way he'd find it in him to forgive her one day.

Emily still felt the night before all too clearly in her entire body when she leaned down and closed her eyes while his familiar scent filled her mind. She swallowed thickly before whispering almost inaudibly. "I'm sorry, Spencer." It made her chest tighten painfully, that after everything he'd done for her the night before – psyhically and especially mentally – that apology was all she could give him in return.

She knew she'd never see him again. And, despite everything she'd gone through during her life, nothing had ever hurt more.

When she walked out of the building and headed towards the great unknown, she liked to think the drops on her cheeks were nothing but rain.

On the other side of the street a car was waiting for her. She hopped into it without daring to look back, stubbornly wiping the moisture from her cheeks.

* * *

/ _There's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you've paid for_ /

* * *

'_For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been'._'

(John Greenleaf Whittier)

* * *

**_End._**

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A/N: So yeah, I really hate the thought of Emily leaving. (pouts) Those two poor things!

BUT, now… (gulps thickly) Was that any good to you guys – or should I press 'delete' button immediately? **PLEASE**, leave a review and let me know your thoughts! It'd mean A LOT to me. (gives puppy's eyes)

Thank you so much for reading, folks!

Who knows, maybe I'll be seeing ya around later…? (glances hopefully)

Take care!


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